Captain Hook's Personal Diary
by Unanimously Anonymous
Summary: Captain Hook can't be a bloodthirsty pirate all the time. He needs to express his true feelings too. That's why he secretly kept a diary to de-stress at the end of a long day. Experience Hook like never before. Even read *gasp* a poem.
1. DO NOT OPEN

**Private Property of Captain J. Hook**

**DO NOT OPEN**

**Anyone who so much as looks at this  
****WILL WALK THE PLANK!**


	2. Entry 27

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or any part of the story from the movie. **

**I swear I come up with the weirdest ideas late at night. This is the result. Enjoy.**

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Entry 27

_Today, dear diary, I will be treating you to a marvelous poem that I wrote. It's about that confounded crocodile of all things, but it's very good and I just know that you'll enjoy it. It's called 'The Cursed Clock.'_

_I hate the sound of a ticking clock.  
__Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.  
__It's like foot steps always following behind me  
__or the angry buzz of a ready to sting bee.  
__I can hear the ticking in my dreams.  
__I'm even haunted there it seems.  
__I see a tail swishing to and fro  
__and watch as eyes bounce high and low.  
__That crocodile is after me again,  
__it seems he will not rest 'til when  
__he has eaten more than just my hand.  
__And my crew just does not understand.  
__They look at me and think, 'What the heck?'  
__as they watch me run across the poop deck.  
__The lot of them are worthless dogs,  
__perhaps I should trade them for hogs.  
__Then maybe I could get that croc off my meet,  
__my life to no longer depend on running feet.  
__It's all the fault of that cursed Peter Pan.  
__How can he, a child, thwart me, a man?  
__Each time I think I've got him, he takes to the air.  
__I never get to win and it just isn't fair. _

_ARGH! CURSE YOU, PETER PAN!_

_Sorry diary about that rip there, I'm sure that I can fix it. But isn't the poem beautiful? I though of it while I was watching the sun set on the horizon and I heard that blasted crocodile following my ship. He ruined that moment for me. He's ruined my life that croc has. I can't even hear the faint ticks of a pocket watch without jumping in the air and having my hair stand on end. Curse that Peter Pan for ever feeding it my hand! Curse you, Peter Pan!_

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**I know that this is really nothing, but a silly poem. That's all it's supposed to be though. I tired to make the poem as goofy as I could without just being random. I hope it was enjoyed. I also know that this is completely out of character for Captain Hook, which is again, done intentionally. With all Hook's problems with Peter and Mr. Smee, he has to have some one rational to talk to honestly. Cue diary. I don't know if I'll write any more entries, but I had fun with this one and I hope you did too. **

**I know that it's a short fic, but I'd still love to hear thoughts on it. Especially if anyone has any ideas for further entries. :D**


	3. Entry 15

**I didn't think I'd do it, but here's another page torn from the diary of the notorious Captain Hook. :D Enjoy. **

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Entry 15

_I was dreaming about the past again, diary. Oh, it was so horrible and wonderful all at the same time. I'll recount the full nostalgia of it for you:_

_I was a handsome young lad, much the same as I still am today, but with a hand instead of a hook. I was sailing my ship through uncharted waters when she was hit by a storm. I yelled orders as my crew went about battening down the hatches and what not. It was then that a great wave swept onto the deck and took me in its grasp as it returned to the sea. I was thrown into the freezing water and left to fend for myself as the storm raged around me. I had begun to swim back to my ship, but I was quickly disoriented in the storm. The only think I remember after that was swimming in cold rain. I swam without an end, struggling to stay above the water through 50ft waves._

_I woke to the sun on my face, washed up on a sandy beach. I sat up, sore from my struggle the night before. I looked around and saw her, _Rosalie. _She was the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes on. She had tanned skin and raven black hair. Her eyes were like the polished wood of my ship on her maiden voyage. She was absolutely gorgeous and I believe that I was instantly in love with her. _

_She was standing behind me and approached cautiously. I told her that I was Captain James Hook. She replied by telling me that she was Rosalie. _The beautiful Rosalie. _I took her hand in both of mine and said what a pleasure it was to meet her. Then I kissed her hand. Oh diary, I remember that moment as if it were yesterday._

_Rosalie showed me the island. She taught me which plants were edible and the best way to hunt the island's local game. She showed me how to make a suspended bed out of leaves and vines. We laughed together and told stories. We got along well with each other, more than well. We were in love. I with her and she with me. We would have been happy to spend the rest of our lives together. _

_Then one night I woke up gagged and being carried. I had begun to struggle and ordered the man to put me down, but he didn't obey me. Instead he mumbled his apologies and something about my own good, then knocked me out with a punch to my head. _

_I didn't wake again until I was in a soft bed and felt the familiar rocking of a boat at sea. I bolted up, my head throbbing, and realized that I was back in my captain's quarters on my ship. _

_Mr. Smee walked in with some tea and was happy to see that I was awake. I jumped out of my bed and nearly strangled him, trying to get out the information of what happened. _

_My crew had apparently gone looking for me after I had fallen off. They had been checking all of the islands near where the storm had been. They saw signs of life on the island I had been on and moved inland in search of me. By the time they found me, night had fallen. They kidnapped me since they didn't know if there were more people than Rosalie. After that I wound up back on my ship, alone and surrounded by idiots._

_They had no idea what they had robbed me of. And I could never tell them. I couldn't let them see my weakness or concern. I couldn't even ask what happened to Rosalie. To this day I still don't know…_

_The past is painful, but it's all the happiness I have left. That's why I have you, diary. Because you're they only one who listens to me. You're the only one who understands me. _

**

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**I think this one is more sad than humorous, but I did try to use as many clichés as I could. I hope it was still enjoyable. I'd love the hear any thoughts on this and I'm always open to suggestions about new ideas for this or how I can improve my writing. Thanks for reading (and hopefully reviewing)! **


	4. Entry 1

Entry 1

_Dear Diary,_

_Hello. Um… I've never had one of you before, so I'm, uh, not willing to bet the hairs of my lip that I know exactly what to do, but I think that I have a scallywag's idea._

_Before we start what I'm sure will be our long and intimate relationship, I think you should know a little about the handsome devil I am._

_First off, diary, I am the notorious Captain Hook. I'm a bloodthirsty pirate and captain of the ship around you. I pillage and plunder ships to my heart's content and can never ever have enough treasure. But to say the truth, diary, I'm beginning…not to bore of this life, but hunger for a new one. Imagine, diary, how great it would be to live on my own island, surrounded by treasure and sail a one-man ship wherever I wanted. I could even pick up a wench or two along the way._

_Does this mean I'm going soft diary? Because I want a solitary, but happy life? (I've sighed here, diary.) The life of a thieving cut throat might be much more inviting if it weren't for the second reason that I'm talking to you._

_IT'S THAT CURSED PETER PAN!_

_My life was great until he flew into it with his stupid pixie dust. Stealing, killing, and sometimes even just sailing around is always interrupted by that blasted Peter Pan. He just will not leave me alone, diary. I swear that I can't go anywhere without that confounded Pan waving his flying feet in my face. He cut off my hand, diary, just because he was upset over some little issue. Really it was so small it was hardly even worth the trouble._

_That's why I have decided to write in you, dear diary, so that I may keep my sanity. You see, my crew doesn't understand, that lot of incompetent scurvy dogs. They don't see the permanent frustration caused by repeated visits from that CURSED PETER PAN! Sorry for that diary, but he truly is the most annoying little flying twerp-ish brat you'll ever meet. Anyway, back to what I was saying…That boy can drive a man insane and I cannot go insane, diary. It would completely throw off my good looks. The stress of the ordeals alone is already doing horrors to my complexion and putting grays in by curly black mane._

_It's not right, diary! It's not fair that I should be so abused and distraught when Pan just makes his rooster crow as he light-heartedly flies off back to whatever hole in the ground he lives in. He probably has friends that treat him like a hero. I want to be treated like a hero! But no. What do I have? The inept Mr. Smee, who is always hitting me in the head with heavy objects or spilling boiling water on me._

_How did I ever wrong him, diary? I mean, yes I've stolen Tiger Lily, and made his little pixie betray him, and tried to make that girl lead me to him, and attempted a few dozen times to kill him. But that's not really all that bad. He got Tiger Lily back, my bomb didn't work, his friend didn't tell me where he was, and I haven't even cut something off of him, let alone killed him. And yet his torment has no end. Why must he be so cruel to me, diary? Why must life be so cruel to me?_

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**I wrote this while I was waiting in the terminal, then while waiting for take off, and finished while actually in the air. So sorry if it's a bit discombobulated. But what do you think of the first entry?**

**As always reviews are appreciated (and may soon be a requirement enforced by Captain Hook :D) [I know that was bad.] Also any suggestions about ideas for other entries are welcome. Or if you want to write your own diary, let me know so I can check it out. :D**


	5. Entry 7

Entry 7

_Oh diary, I had the most wonderful dream last night! I can tell you about my dreams, right? Isn't that something that people write about in you?_

_Oh well, it doesn't matter, I'm captain of this ship, so I'm going to do whatever I want. OK, so it went like this:_

_Do remember the private island that I told you about? Well, the dream was set there. The island was so beautiful, diary, you just had to see it. I'll do my best to tell you what it was like. There were gorgeous palms along the shore and beautiful flowers that lined the walk way to my cabin. There were bigger and broader tree farther inland to provide shade and on the coast there was an inlet for me to dock my ship in. And, most importantly, I was completely alone with no cursed little flying boys or incapable crew members._

_In my dream, I got to watch the sunset from my beach. There colors were beautiful, rich golds, pinks, reds, oranges, and diary, there was even purple in it! It was gor-geous!_

_After that I took an evening stroll through the trees filled with fireflies to my ship. I unmoored it and set sail. I wasn't expecting to come across anything, just a nice evening sail in the waters around my island. But of course, diary, a dream could never be do boring. Could you imagine that? Me, the notorious Captain Hook, dreaming about a peaceful trip through calm waters. Pah! Never!_

_No, as I was out sailing through the calm waters, the wind began to pick up and waves started crawling up my boat. It was a new moon, so there was only the dim light of the stars. But with my keen vision I saw it: a Viking long boat._

_They hadn't seen me yet. I was well hidden in the shadow of a cloud. There must have been at least twenty of them, diary, but somehow I knew that I could defeat them._

_I snuck up as close as I dared to, then I drew my sword and put it between my teeth. Then I jumped into the water and swam to the boats. I slowly crawled up over the edge, still with the Vikings completely ignorant of my presence. Then I threw myself into the middle of the boat and let out a wild howl._

_While they were all still shocked, I slit the throat of the closest one. That broke their trance and they all came charging at me. They surrounded me and I turned to face them all. Then I began slaying them as they came, sometimes two or three at a time. I defeated them all with just one blow. They were hardly worthy opponents._

_When they all fell only one remained. He hadn't joined the fight previously, like he was waiting. He was bigger (and I might add _harrier_, diary) than all of the other Vikings. He also had the biggest doubled-headed axe. I knew that he was the chief, or king, or whatever the barbarians called him. But, as you have probably already assumed diary, I was confident that I would win against him._

_I lunged and he parried, then he lunged and I parried. And we danced like that across his boat and back. It was like a dance or poetry, diary. It's like our swords were singing and our bodies were the orchestra that accompanied them. We were even matches for each other, but I was beginning to bore with our extended fight, so as is the inevitable way of things, I tricked him into looking away. And with that I killed him and looted the boat (and I took his helmet to hang above my mantle because every good pirate needs to have the helmet of a Viking chief that he has slain displayed above his hearth.)_

_But you should not think of his death as a sour note, dear diary. (Not only because he was a made up character in my dream, but) because of him I made the most spectacular swordplays. I was thrusting and lunging and parrying and my steps never faltered. I hate to brag diary—well actually I won't lie to you, I love it—but I am truly the best swordsman that ever lived. No other man could have killed that many men at once. I know you're probably thinking that I could only do that because it was a dream, but I have absolute confidence that I could reenact everything perfectly in reality._

_I then sailed back to my island, loaded down with gold and silver and precious gems. I retired to my cabin and buried myself in the mounds of treasure I had collected._

_I felt so warm and comforted when I woke up, diary. Then I opened my eyes to a much smaller pile of loot and realized that it had all been just a dream. The real world is so depressive, diary. But my dream was just so wonderful that I to tell you about it. If I can't _really _live it, at least I can _relive_ it. Thanks for listening, diary._

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**And thank you reading (and hopefully reviewing :D.)**

**Again I wrote this in the terminal and on the plane so…sorry if anything seems amiss. (I also edited it listening to "Alice Underground" by Avril Lavigne, which is just **_**awesome**_**! So sorry again. :). )**

**I really like this one. I didn't start off with Viking, but they just sort of barged in (you know how they are :D). **

**Suggestions welcome! And all comments are appreciated (well minus the ones that aren't :P). **


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